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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333673">maybe i dreamt you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/benwvatt/pseuds/benwvatt'>benwvatt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Resident (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Pining, Smut, the perfect combination!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:41:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333673</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/benwvatt/pseuds/benwvatt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He pressed a kiss to Nic’s neck, then a few more. She was flush beneath him. “You really wanted me that badly while we were broken up?”</i>
</p><p>In which Nic can't sleep and ends up thinking about Conrad. He figures that out later on.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Conrad Hawkins/Nicolette Nevin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set before season 1 starts, when they've been broken up for a few months. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nic turned over in her bed, legs wrapped in a blanket, and groaned.</p><p>Forty-five minutes she’d tried to find some solace in sleep, and for some reason she couldn’t even get close. She’d hit that godforsaken second wind, tired to the point of being too awake. Call it natural caffeine or something. Her brain and her body didn’t always communicate well.</p><p>So Nic turned to check her phone, squinting in its light. 3:26 AM, just great. Her shift started in a few hours, and she’d have to get up then.</p><p>Nic rejected the subtle reminder that she was sleeping alone, sleeping alone <i>again,</i> because the last guy that slept in her bed and kept her close was gone now. She’d ended it, making that decision for herself and for him. It was a good decision, she insisted on hollow nights like this. Nic grasped for peace, if only a little 一 it was the only decision she could’ve made, going back to being friends with Conrad.</p><p>Still, friends didn’t keep you warm in bed, not the way he used to.</p><p>3:29 AM. The red numbers on her alarm clock were stern, and Nic shivered. Goosebumps dotted her arms. She pulled her comforter up, running her hand over stitches in the fabric from when it’d torn a seam. She walked the fragile steps to her drawer for socks, pulling on a second t-shirt as well. One just wasn’t cutting it. Two t-shirts might make her look like a fashionable mistake, but, hey, no one was around to make fun of her anyhow.</p><p>In the dark, fingers ghosting over the sleeves and hems, Nic could tell it was oversized. It must have been his. She fumbled across the collar (yep, the tag’s been cut out, Conrad would do that) and pulled it on. It was too late and she was too strung out to have pride about not needing something that used to be his.</p><p>It might still be his.</p><p>Nic knew Conrad got her copy of Mountains Beyond Mountains and some of her favorite pens in the breakup; were those still hers? Or had he gotten full custody of them? The little things were too awkward to ask for. A laptop, sure. A dress or a watch or Aunt Alisa’s waffle maker, yeah.</p><p>Yet the more they’d asked for their stuff back, the worse it felt to extend that needy little reminder. <i>So I’m really sorry we ended our relationship, except I left my $9 phone charger on your bedside table, do you mind if I come over for it later?</i></p><p>Needless to say, Nic gave up a good fifteen bucks for a new charger.</p><p>Her bed was cold, the fabric worn out with time, and she wished so foolishly that Conrad might be there. Legs intertwined, arm slung over her shoulder. She’d taken those little things for granted. Deep down, it wasn’t worthwhile to want someone who couldn’t give her what she needed. It wouldn’t go anywhere, it wouldn’t fix anything. But in the middle of a sleepless night, wearing a shirt he’d abandoned or donated or bestowed upon her, Nic still craved his presence. Just the drowsy weight of him against her skin, not even a kiss.</p><p>She didn’t need a bonfire. A candle’s warmth would have been enough.</p>
<hr/><p>3:37 AM. Nic felt she was being ridiculous. Jessie was always saying that if you couldn’t sleep, you ought to get out of bed. Do something, get a drink, have a midnight snack. Quit searching for rest when it clearly doesn’t want to be found.</p><p>Jessie was also the type to grin and say that orgasms were the best cure for that once-in-a-while insomnia that overstayed its welcome. Nic shrugged; she wasn’t wrong. Nothing like a rush to wear you out, wind you down, release that tension in your shoulders.</p><p>Unlucky me, she thought, sitting up in bed. It’d been so long since she’d been intimate with anyone. She’d waited the five months since the breakup to feel like her old self again (not that she was counting, but what if she was?) and still, there hadn’t been anyone after him. Nic had <i>rediscovered</i> herself, whatever that meant 一 she’d narrated journal entries and watched television with ice cream and a bottle of wine, she was doing alright, and everything was pristine in the daylight, colder at night.</p><p>She missed sex. She’d pretend she didn’t, yet she had to admit it sooner or later. There probably wouldn’t be anyone for a while. Nic wasn’t casual enough to handle one-night stands the way her sister did, effortlessly so, and she was jealous of Jessie right then. It must’ve been thrilling to sleep with someone whose last name you didn’t even know.</p><p>But Nic didn’t want to learn anybody else’s last name. She needed the person she’d walked away from, the one she wasn’t supposed to have.</p><p>Somebody else would marry Conrad, someone spontaneous and willing to take the leaps and bounds he took in stride 一 Nic had a bitter flash forward to their stupid inevitable wedding, probably in a hot-air balloon or some other frivolous and dangerous venue 一 and she would go home from the wedding to sleep alone in her cold bed, wearing two t-shirts and a pair of fluffy socks. She might even need to adopt a cat if things remained so lonesome.</p><p>3:58 AM.</p><p>Nic crossed her arms, huffing and sinking into the sheets, and she tried not to be angry at imaginary Conrad for having an imaginary wife.</p><p>She had to be at Chastain in four more hours. With all her might, she hoped things would improve, and that she wouldn’t run into Conrad that day at work. Nic didn’t know how she might react to the sight of him, grey scrubs and hair tousled. Sometimes she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him, missing the things she’d taken for granted before. A hand at the small of her back, or tracing the gentle lines of her palms. Maybe cupping her cheek. Maybe, in a more heated moment, trailing up her thigh, down her chest. He was tactile like that; she missed it, she’d loved it back when she loved him.</p><p>Nic turned over in her bed and tried to forget every thought: of t-shirts without tags and her body without his.</p>
<hr/><p>“You can tell me why you’re so tired, y’know.” Jessie smirked and drank her coffee, pink lipstick staining the cup. “Elephant in the room. Might be nice to get it off your chest.”</p><p>Nic bristled. “It’s kind of a long story.”</p><p>“I like long stories. Let me guess, is it a work thing? Does the hospital have you pulling eighteen-hour shifts again?”</p><p>“Nope, no exciting tales to tell from Chastain this time.”</p><p>“Darn. It was so fun to hear about the guy with the two spleens.”</p><p>“Mmm, that’s one of my favorites to tell,” Nic said, taking a sip and reveling in it. Heaven bless chai lattes. “And thank you for checking in on me, Jess. It’s not a big deal, except it’s been hard to sleep lately. I guess I forgot how to sleep alone.”</p><p>“Learning how to be single again can be tough. I remember when I broke up with Leah, I was a mess. Cut yourself some slack.” Jessie leans in, taking her hand. “You’re sure it’s over between you and Conrad?” She made the second sentence smaller, quieter, like that might lessen the blow.</p><p>“I really don’t know. I don’t want it to be a thing of the past, but he wouldn’t get help while we were together and I … I needed to get therapy with or without him. We were both in a bad place when we broke up. So now I have Dr. Segal, and I sleep alone.” Nic took another sip, glancing out the window of the coffeeshop. A couple walked in, arm in arm, and she remembered being that young and head-over-heels once.</p><p>“Maybe you guys can try again.” Jessie smiled. “I ran into Conrad last month while I was jogging at Piedmont Park. He seems like he’s on the same page as you.”</p><p>“As in..?”</p><p>“As in, he’s hiding the bags beneath his eyes and acting like nothing’s wrong.”</p><p>“You got all that from running at the park?” Nic laughed. “It’s like you’re staring at this memory with a microscope. You and Dr. Segal would have a lot of fun dissecting my psyche.”</p><p>“We made small talk about you,” Jessie said. She fiddled with the carbon-copy receipt, folding and unfolding it into squares. “Then he asked me to check in and see if you were alright. He didn’t want to pry.”</p><p>Nic gulped, not knowing how to take this. “I can take care of myself-”</p><p>“It’s not about you being independent, it’s about needing people to talk to. Social support system. Isn’t that what they teach you in therapy?” Jessie shredded the receipt into strips absentmindedly. It was harder to make eye contact with her sister in moments like this. When she took a gap year after college, when she got pulled over without her license, it’s always been harder. “He just wanted to make sure.”</p><p><i> I don’t want to want him back, I don’t need to have him home.</i> Nic’s own personal ‘I’m single and determined to get used to it’ mantra. “Oh. That’s actually really sweet of him, then.”</p><p>“Yeah, it was. And I’m not just saying this because I bet that you two would get back together,” Jessie said. “But if you guys did, I think you could make it work.”</p><p>“Who would you make a bet with, exactly?”</p><p>“Uh, Jessica, the nurse? I met her when I was staying at your house last year.”</p><p>“Jessica’s betting against me?” Nic laughed. It felt good to find humor in the foolish things again. “Can’t believe you two have a Jess alliance.”</p><p>“She’s not against you. She just thinks you and Conrad aren’t getting back together until April or so, and I bet that it’d be earlier.”</p><p>It was November, its first few days bringing in the frost. The possibility of ‘April or so’ hung in the air like false hope.</p>
<hr/><p>Another night of restlessness had reared its ugly head. Nic sat awake in her shirt and underwear, glaring at the clock on her bedside dresser as if it were responsible for any of this. 2:16 AM. Her shift didn’t start for hours, and she felt caught in the middle of a head start and last place.</p><p><i>Maybe I need a sleep therapist.</i> But that’d be two therapists to pay for, and her insurance might not cover it. She’d need a referral, not to mention the costs if she accidentally saw somebody out-of-network...</p><p><i>Loosen up!</i> Nic thought, figuring it was too late to apply any practical solution to this impractical problem. She let the dim nighttime trickle through her windows. She watched red headlights trail past the glass, falling into her room before exiting once more. Maybe Jessie was right. She needed to break some rules rather than enforcing them all the time.</p><p>The lingering thought of sex as a way to find some sleep wouldn’t hurt either, Nic thought. Just a little unreality, a rush to make her cheeks burn and her head light. Something different.</p><p><i>Maybe he was in her bed,</i> she imagined, tipping her head back against the pillow.</p><p><i>Maybe he’d dragged her there, headfirst, fearless, through the doorway and against the wall until they reached her bedroom door.</i> She could be into this. Nic slipped a hand beneath the waistband of her underwear, eyes shut. No one would know anyways. What was the harm in a little fantasy?</p><p><i>Maybe he’d pick her up, bring her to the sheets like he used to. He might kiss down the column of her neck, drop his touch in the valley between her breasts. And then he’d linger there, praising her - just like that - yes, yes, yes, yes, keep going-</i> Nic could see him and her together, all that friction turned to heat. Oh, the way he’d loved her ー she’d always been a little too vocal in bed and Conrad had only spurred her on, meeting her every sigh and curse with one of his own.</p><p>
  <i>He was guiding her now, his hand circled around her wrists as he pushed them back on the pillow, and his voice was low when he asked her, ‘Like this? Yeah, you like that?’ He’d grind against her, or maybe thrust into her once she was ready. Conrad was arrogant in all the right places, he knew what she needed.</i>
</p><p> Nic dragged her underwear down and kicked it off, letting it slip to the floor. She teased her thighs and her center with her fingertips, feeling more sensitive. She sighed. Didn’t want to end the fantasy just yet. Nic blushed, feeling too vulnerable for even this, wondering whether you could truly be over someone that you were still dreaming about.</p><p>(Probably not, but she was tired of overthinking. She liked this kind of thinking much better.)</p><p>
  <i>‘Yes, yeah, keep going, fuck...’ she’d moan, thighs rubbing against his.</i>
</p><p><i>‘Shit, baby, you’re so wet, how long have you been wanting me?’ He could be such a tease.</i> She thought about his fingers rubbing up against her core. Fuck, he had nice hands.</p><p>Nic let out another soft sigh, knowing she lived alone and nobody would hear, but she remained bashful, still scared to want somebody who wasn’t there. She tossed the thought aside. Logic wouldn’t win any arguments tonight. It wasn’t wrong to want him, not really, not after more than a year of having him, needing him, keeping him close. The instinct was ingrained in her by now. She didn’t want to fantasize about anything else. Any<i>one</i> else, really.</p><p><i>‘Mmm, how about since the day we met?’</i> Nic imagined herself reply, and dear heaven, did she miss the version of herself that spent the hours of 2 and 3 and 4 AM pressed up against him. <i>‘What if I told you that I thought about dragging you back to my place the minute I laid eyes on that young doctor who couldn’t play pool to save his life?’</i></p><p>Alright, so perhaps nostalgic imaginary flirting was approaching the boundaries of ‘I am clearly not over you’, yet all logic had flown out the window.</p><p><i>‘Feels like you’re just insulting me now, but I can take it. I’ll just tease you a little longer.’</i> Conrad would pull off his shirt by tugging at the back collar, the way that men always seemed to. Whenever Nic had tried it in the past, she’d just gotten stuck in the fabric.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p> “Need a little help there?” He’d taken the shirt off her awkward frame, her elbows sticking out in angles, and he just nuzzled his nose against hers before asking if she wanted to have sex or wind down or figure out the mechanics of removing her own clothing. “You’d make a terrible stripper, by the way. Too slow.”</p>
  <p>“Darn, there goes your birthday surprise.”</p>
  <p>“Wait, really?”</p>
  <p>“Nah, I’ll do something a lot hotter for your birthday than fail to take my own shirt off.” She’d winked, leaning in for more of him, and they forgot the matter entirely. Her shirt looked better when it was on the floor anyways.</p>
</blockquote>Nic wanted him. She missed the ways he used to tease her, verbally or otherwise - she thought about that as she kept fingering herself-<p>
  <i>‘Are you sure this isn’t too much?’ Conrad would whisper, ready for her but willing to wait. When she nodded, he’d go on. ‘Alright, babe, tell me how badly you want me, tell me what you need from me-’</i>
</p><p>
  <i>‘Just you,’ she’d sigh.</i>
</p><p><i>‘You and I both know that that’s not what I mean,'</i> and Conrad would dangle those words in front of her, wanting her, drowning in her. It felt strangely intimate to think of his name instead of his hands, Nic thought, drawing two fingers in and out.</p><p>
  <i>‘Oh - holy fuck, holy-’ she’d be biting down on her lip by then, feeling him right against her, ‘Fuck, fuuuck, keep going, don’t stop, I just want you to fuck me.’</i>
</p><p><i>‘Yeah?’ Oh, he was smug, he was clever, he was gorgeous, he was torture.</i>

Nic kept that last thought in her mind as she started playing with her clit in slow circles. It might’ve been bad to think of him like this, but it would’ve been worse to stop. It was 2 AM on a Wednesday, and why the hell shouldn’t she make herself feel good? They were her freaking memories, and damn it, she’d masturbate to them if she wanted to.</p><p>
  <i>‘Yeah, I think - I think I want you to fuck me until I’m screaming out your name,’ she would answer, feeling bold and a little unlike herself. He had a way of bringing out that side of her. He was still grinding against her, skin on skin - still ready, so ready-</i>
</p><p>Nic shut her eyes again. Heat was curling in her stomach, a telltale sign she was beginning to get close.</p><p><i>So ready, so fucking ready, he’d thrust into her, deep strokes as he gripped her hips. Maybe he’d move his hands from her hips to her waist, just holding her-</i> Nic could see it now as she kept circling her clit with her thumb.</p><p><i>He’d stroke her breasts, bite her shoulder, all the things he used to do. He was heavy against her, on top of her. He wasn’t everywhere but he might as well have been. He called out her name, heat of the moment boiling to the surface,</i> and as Nic thought about that, she came in her own hands.</p><p>It reminded her of sex with Conrad, fast and steady yet not just about passion. It was so much easier to let her walls down when she felt safe to do so.</p><p>Nic sighed, breathless, and let her eyes open. She laid there. The sky outside was still dark, and she closed her eyes for a moment to imagine Conrad lying, naked and satisfied, in bed next to her. He could be so good at aftercare, at pillowtalk.</p><p>He had been so good.</p><p>She was half-aware she was still wearing his t-shirt, with her own beneath it. It wasn’t a particularly attractive thing to have put on in the middle of the night, but breakups were hard. </p><p><i>Some girls watch romantic comedies when they’re missing their exes. Others masturbate to memories of having really great sex! Each to their own,</i> she thought.</p><p>It was still cold outside. Her temporary high had brought a flush to her cheeks, at least, and Nic blushed a little. She didn’t know how to look Conrad in the eye after bringing herself to orgasm at the mere thought of him in her bed.</p><p>These days, it wasn’t like they were doing much talking anyways.</p><p>Nic knew him ー well, she knew most of him, she wasn’t really sure about how much of the old Conrad had been broken away by stress and trauma ー and she still wanted  him, every brittle and chipped piece.</p><p>She crossed her fingers and hoped that the myth of 'April or so' might come true. She wouldn’t have done everything for Conrad, yet she was willing to go the distance if he would.</p><p>Nic didn’t like to admit it, though Jessie was probably right. She had a feeling she’d be getting better sleep soon, one way or another.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>[messages, 2:34 AM]</i>
</p><p>  <i><b>jessie:</b> how good, exactly, is the makeup sex??</i></p><p>  <i><b>nic:</b> mindblowing<br/><b>nic:</b> not to be too graphic but<br/><b>nic:</b> FUCKING AMAZING</i></p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it's just smut and feelings. enjoy.</p><p>set at the very beginning of season 2, when they've just gotten back together</p><p>music recs include reunion (betty who), dress (taylor swift), ready for you (haim), be my baby (ariana grande), and worship (years and years) because everything I write is inspired by a song</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was May when they repaired things, taping and gluing their past love into a present one. Nic loved Conrad, she did, beyond comprehension and rationale at times; not that she didn’t know why, exactly, she loved him, but the reasons crept up and overshadowed each other.</p><p>She learned why she loved him when he pressed her keys into her palm, having found them first; when he made her laugh during seemingly inconsolable moments; when he made grocery shopping something to look forward to; when he kept her safe; when he lent her his flannel shirt on cold nights; when he reminded her to sleep before midnight; when he woke her up; when he muttered complaints about her cooking (“you use too much garlic!”) over a dinner table. She’d flick salt at him sometimes, aiming for his left shoulder. Just a superstition.</p><p>Nic loved him, she did. No more waiting. These were the days when she could seize what she wanted.</p>
<hr/><p>“Fuuuuck, that’s such a turn-on.” Conrad held back a groan, and there was a fire in his eyes now. He pressed a kiss to Nic’s neck, then a few more. She was flush beneath him. “You really wanted me that badly while we were broken up?”</p><p>He and Nic were lying in bed, their clothes torn off by now. The second round of makeup sex did that to you. It was <i>we were broken up for a year</i> sex, healing much more than the petty scars of <i>it was a dumb argument!</i> She’d let it slip that she thought about him, er, in her bedroom.</p><p>“Of course I wanted you.” She was hiding her embarrassment beneath ten layers of laughing and brushing it off. “I feel like this is too personal. I mean, it’s kinda intrusive to think of you in <i>that</i> way and, um,” great, this conversation was going about as smoothly as a riptide, “and, uh, touch myself at the same time.”</p><p>They’d talked about self-pleasure, of course. They’d even taken advantage of it a few times when they’d been on the phone, miles apart.</p><p>But this -</p><p>She felt wrong to have wanted him when he hadn’t been hers.</p><p>“Hey. You’re not a bad person or whatever. You missed me, you dealt with it, I was missing you too and I know I had my coping methods.” Conrad bit his lip. His gaze flicked to Nic’s naked form, and he admired the curve of her back, the smooth line where her neck met her shoulder. She was lovely, draped in white bedsheets and nothing else. “Have I mentioned lately how insanely hot that is, you fantasizing about me while we were taking a break?”</p><p>“Only about three or four times.”</p><p>“I, uh, did it too.” He swallowed. “Sometimes.”</p><p>Coping methods.</p><p>“Do tell.”</p><p>In her head, Nic played a supercut of the last hour: keys jammed in the door, coats flung over chairs, shoes scattered by the entryway in a heated rush to get each other’s clothes off as quickly as possible. She remembered Conrad’s lips on her neck 一 oh, he was good at sucking hickeys into her skin, and he’d easily fulfilled her request to leave a hickey somewhere nobody else could see. There was one on her thigh right now, dark and delightfully sore.</p><p>They made eye contact for a second.</p><p>Yep, round three, definitely on the table. (Technically, round one had begun on the table, Nic thought with a smile, before they’d moved to her bed. Conrad had broken a plate by accident when he’d laid her down. Worth it.)</p><p>“Uh,” Conrad rubbed his neck. “I really hate to sound weird.”</p><p>“Oh, like I didn’t sound weird telling you I had a sex fantasy about you?”</p><p>“Touché. So what do you want to know?”</p><p>“Start from the beginning,” Nic teased. “What’d you think of?”</p><p>He was blushing. “We were, um, in the on-call room. On a break or whatever, I didn’t even care, I just had to have you. Right there.” Conrad leaned in for a long kiss. His memories were a relic of a lonelier time. “You promise this isn’t too weird?”</p><p>“Promise.” She stuck out her pinky finger for some reason, and he laughed before taking her up on the offer. He intertwined his finger with hers. Something innocent right before they got to the not-so-innocent stuff.</p><p>“I, uh, I pulled your pants to your ankles and kissed your thighs, fingered you, sucked your clit, all of it. You’d be pretty loud, like you always are-” he was smug, and righteously so, “and I just remember missing the way you used to pull at my hair. You’d be so sensitive, saying my name. You’d guide me right where you need me.”</p><p>“You like that, when I guide your head with my hands?”</p><p>“Fuck, yes.”</p><p>Nic sighed, slow and deep. “Wow. Shit, that’s really hot.” She imagined him in the shower or in his bedroom, wanting her next to him. On him, under him, didn’t matter.</p><p>“It was a good fantasy, wasn’t it?”</p><p>“Not as good as mine,” she said, holding him close and cradling his face so she could kiss him. She felt him hard against her thigh. “We were in my bed.”</p><p>“How adventurous,” Conrad teased. He rocked his hips against hers for a moment, experimental, wanting to gauge her reaction. The way a curse slipped from her lips, it must’ve been a rousing success.</p><p>The pleasure passed, a wave on her horizon. “Mm, it felt adventurous <i>enough</i> to fantasize about you.” Nic paused, catching the spark in his eye. She started grinding against him too. “I needed you, I’ll have you know. I was kinda desperate to get off, and you - your body, the idea of you - that was the only thing that’d do it for me. So we were in my bed, and you were asking me how I wanted to be fucked.”</p><p>“Yeah?” He was kissing her jaw, down her neck, at her pulse point, across her sternum. He kept his torturous pace, rocking into her, all the while. Anything to rile her up further.</p><p>It was ridiculously hot that she’d touched herself alone on some cold night, wanting him this badly. It was even hotter that she was acting out her memories in front of him.</p><p>“And you did that thing, m-making me beg for it, just a - <i>oh</i> - just a little bit,” she cautiously narrated, voice shaking slightly. Even through the gauzy veil of her daze, she could string a sentence together. Her walls were falling down, however. Conrad had always been a good distraction, and he was once again proving excellent in the art of adoring her. Nic was breathing harder now, heart racing in the heat of the moment.</p><p>“Hmm, would you want me to do that again? String you along for pleasure’s sake?” He asked.</p><p>Fuck, the very idea that she couldn’t get off without thinking of him — he wouldn’t be forgetting that one anytime soon. Conrad never could’ve dreamt that she’d been missing him like that during their breakup. Between those long months, he’d wondered if Nic was moving on.</p><p>He didn’t want to be a jealous man. She wasn’t his, she was her own person, it was her right to date anyone else while she’d been single. But it was so alluring that there was nobody to be jealous <i>of</i> to begin with.</p><p>She’d wanted him. Him and no one else.</p><p>Conrad was starting to leave a hickey on her chest, a few inches beneath her collarbone. “You okay with this?” He added quietly.</p><p>“Yeah, go ahead,” Nic replied, her blonde hair fanned out flat across the bedspread. It would be nice to have a mark after months of being markless. She raked a hand through his hair, letting the other play with her clit. He was so close to her. “Conrad, Conrad, you’re so good, I love you…”</p><p>“You’re about to love me a little more.” He smirked before sucking her nipple into his mouth, swirling it softly. He rolled the other between his fingers.</p><p>Her breath caught, and she moaned gently. “So fucking good.”</p><p>“Anything for you. So remind me, how does the rest of this fantasy go?” He looked up from her chest to see the flush on her cheeks, the need in her eyes.</p><p>He’d missed her badly. Dreams didn’t want him half as much as she had.</p><p>“You would, uh, kiss down my stomach, kiss my thighs,” and she laid her head back, groaning as he moved. He was a good listener for sure, following along to the letter. He even improvised, rubbing his thumb over her clit gently. “Yes, yes, yes, <i>yes-</i>” she groaned.</p><p>He was edging so close, right where she needed him.</p><p>“How do you want me, hm?” Conrad ran a finger across her aching clit and into her core. He started teasing her further, withdrawing before adding another finger. Nic was so ready, she was a little worse than desperate, and he knew. He was familiar with every inch of her. “You’re so wet, baby, just soaked. Tell me what you need.” He was enjoying the slow burn of all this, wasn’t he?</p><p>Nic felt a little too aware that she was basically living in a fantasy 一 a fantasy in which her boyfriend had his hand between her thighs and was praising her slowly, coaxing her desperations the way he’d fan a flame, keeping her just frustrated enough to make things interesting. She was definitely a fan of interesting.</p><p>She was sure she must’ve been blushing for one reason or another. If it wasn’t the wine, it was the sex they’d had before; if it wasn’t the sex they had before, it was the teasing; if it wasn’t the teasing, it was the fantasizing; if it wasn’t the fantasizing, it was his body and his voice and his hands and-</p><p>“Babe. Are you okay? Is this going too far?” He looked up to her, lifting his hands so he wouldn’t touch her.</p><p>“Keep going,” Nic said, slow and yet immediate. Conrad was so good as to ask her why, exactly, she’d gone silent during a game whose moves were figures of speech. There was no way she’d ask him to stop now. “I really need you. I need your hand on my clit, and-” she caught his glance again, seeing him smirk, “and I need you inside me, hard and fast.”</p><p>“I can give you hard and fast.” He was cheeky and she hated it, she loved it, she’d never get enough of it. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “By the way, you ought to fantasize about me more often. We could have sex like this all the time.”</p><p>“Yeah?” She bit her lip. Even his voice was turning her on. “Well, the point is to have sex, not just talk about it. Come on now, don’t leave a girl hanging.”</p><p>She liked pushing his buttons. He was a fire she could so easily stoke.</p><p>“I won’t,” he murmured. Above her, Conrad aligned his body with hers. “Promise you I won’t.”</p><p>He thrust into her, hands gripping her hips before falling to the wayside, tracing up her chest to skim the sides of her breasts. Nic loved him, she loved the way he was so eager to play out her wildest dreams 一 yep, yeah, she would <i>definitely</i> be sore tomorrow, maybe the day after, too, the way he was going 一 he was cursing under his breath, and she was cursing above hers, louder than she usually liked to let on but who <i>cared</i>, she had him, she had him close, she had so much of him, he was giving her everything-</p><p>“Conrad, Christ, yes, right there-” Eyes shut, she was seeing stars. Her fingers ran up and down his back, pressing deep into his skin. She knew he didn’t mind being marked, either.</p><p>“Nic, baby, so wet - holy fuck, I love you-”</p><p>He was up against her clit, the pressure unbelievable and yet so steady. She knew all his moves, and that was oddly comforting. He was the same person who had loved her before, because he still loved her now. He knew her body like no one else could (or would, Nic thought) and she cherished him, solid against her. He was here with her. He was real, he was giving her exactly what she needed because he knew her just that well-</p><p>“Conrad, fuck, <i>fuck!</i> - don’t ever stop - Yeah, Conrad, just like that-“</p><p>And she was saying his name, so used to the way its letters were formed. She wouldn’t ever learn someone’s name the way she’d learned to adore his. She was sensitive, receiving so much friction. “Babe, I’m so close-”</p><p>“Come on baby, let me hear you-”</p><p>She whined. “Fucking hell, you’re so hot, I missed this, missed your body against mine, you’re so gorgeous-“</p><p>“Yeah? You wanted me, you have me now.” His moans weren’t even as loud as hers. “Nic, yeah, so good, baby, <i>holyfuckingshit.</i>”</p><p>“Yes, yeah, you’re everything, faster, don’t stop-“</p><p>She buried her head into the crook of his neck and lost herself in him, her orgasm stronger than the last time. Their bodies were still intertwined, warm, close to each other. Nic grinded her hips against him. One, two, three more erratic strokes and he came, panting, speechless.</p><p>He opened his eyes.</p><p>“I know,” Nic assured him. She was lying pressed against the pillow, her hair a mess and her heart thrumming in her veins. “I know.” She wrapped her arm around him, still wanting him next to her. Couldn’t get enough of him. She wouldn’t ever get enough.</p><p>“I love you,” Conrad murmured, kissing a bead of sweat off her temple. It was hard to form words. She was back, and that concept was nearly too good to be true. But Nic wasn’t a concept. She was someone, his favorite someone.</p><p>She kissed him. “I love you too. And, uh, <i>wow.</i> You were amazing.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“For sure.”</p><p>He laughed. “You were great, too. Thanks for coming prepared with the, uh, the fantasy. It wasn’t too much?”</p><p>“Oh, never. That was unbelievable.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“It goes in our top five, easy.”</p><p>Conrad breathed out slowly. He counted on his fingers. “I thought our top five was, uh, San Francisco hotel, hospital gala with the red dress,” he raised an eyebrow, wondering if that dress was still around her closet somewhere, “one-year anniversary, wine tasting, and our seventh date.”</p><p>They had a list. It was written in their heads because Nic was too shy to put it down on paper.</p><p>“Maybe this one was better than the wine tasting?” she asked.</p><p>“Mmm, possible. We might need to swap those out. People are right, makeup sex is mind-blowing.”</p><p>Nic laid back on the mattress, grabbing a bedsheet and tugging it across her torso. For some reason, it occurred to her that this was the same bed in which she’d dreamt of him. “Yeah, I’m still knocked out. I don’t think I can think straight.”</p><p>“I’ll go get you a cup of water. I think you could use it.” Conrad smiled, standing up and beginning to track down his clothes on the floor. He doubled back to leave a kiss on her forehead before he left. She always needed a drink after sex, and he knew her quirks like they were his own. </p><p>“Ugh, thank you. I’m still recovering, I don’t think I can walk just yet.” She was worn out, left with daydreams and a steady pulse. “Don’t be gone too long.”</p><p>She was so safe, waiting for his easy return. She had whatever she’d been looking for. </p><p>“And miss this, the afterglow? Not a chance.” He walked out.</p><p>Briefly, lying in bed, Nic wondered if they’d get married. If they’d make it this time. She didn’t want to know anyone the way she’d come to know Conrad. She was glad to anticipate his footsteps as he crossed over the threshold to her bedroom.</p><p>Conrad passed her a wine glass filled nearly to the brim with water; everything tasted better in a wine glass. From the pillow, Nic sat up, crossing her legs and taking the cup from him.</p><p>“Thank you.” She drank, tipping her head back.</p><p>Conrad kissed her cheek before taking her glass and sipping. He passed it back. He was so handsome in the afternoon light that the closed curtains allowed into her bedroom. Soft glances, messy hair. Nic loved being the reason his hair was messed up in the first place.</p><p>“Jessie’s gonna be so happy to hear we got back together. Do you mind if I tell her, or ...?” She didn’t know if they were telling people yet.</p><p>“Go ahead, yeah.”</p><p>It was real to him, too. They were going public again.</p><p>Nic finished her cup of water (wasn’t hard, a wine glass couldn’t hold much) and set it on her bedside table. She took his hand, lying down next to him. Oh, she’d missed pillowtalk. “I love you so much, you know.”</p><p>“I love you too. So much.” Conrad paused. “Hey, are we sure your sister doesn’t hate me?”</p><p>“She could never hate you. She was even hoping we’d get back together.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Oh, definitely. We would talk about you during the breakup.”</p><p>“Awww, that’s adorable. Nevin bonding time,” he quipped.</p><p>And as their voices trailed on, as Nic talked about melatonin supplements she used to need, how Jessie was doing in rehab, how wonderful it was to fall asleep next to him, Conrad wondered if they’d work out this time. If they’d get married, maybe.</p><p>Hopefully.</p><p>He wanted to marry the only woman who made him feel this safe. Conrad thought about Dr. Redman, his therapist, and what she would say. He didn’t want to move too fast — obviously he wasn’t going to propose <i>tomorrow</i> or anything. They needed to lay the groundwork, familiarize themselves with this new life.</p><p>Nic slinked downstairs wearing nothing but his t-shirt. She tiptoed; the floor was cold and she was too stubborn to put on a pair of socks. Arriving at their room with a pack of Oreos, she kissed his cheek.</p><p>“You always want carbs after sex, even if you try and hide it.”</p><p>She remembered.</p><p>Conrad had to kiss her back so a phrase like <i>wanna be my wife?</i> didn’t slip and fall out of his mouth. He’d get the chance to ask her another time. He’d get the chance as long as he kept up weekly therapy sessions and refrained from reverting to Conrad 1.0, and he just knew he could make it — <span class="u">they</span> could make it. Love finds a way. He was thinking about this as he traced his tongue along her bottom lip. Her chapstick tasted like vanilla.</p><p>“What was that for?” She asked, blushing.</p><p>“You-“ his words tangled, he laid a hand on her shoulder to anchor himself. “You’re my favorite person, you know that?”</p><p>Nic was brimming with glory when she answered. “I love you too.”</p>
<hr/><p>
  <i>[messages, 2:34 AM]</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>jessie:</b> how good, exactly, is the makeup sex??</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>nic:</b> mindblowing<br/>
<b>nic:</b> not to be too graphic but<br/>
<b>nic:</b> FUCKING AMAZING<br/>
<b>nic:</b> best I’ve ever had<br/>
<b>nic:</b> I’m never leaving my house again. I don’t even care!! I’ll have my groceries delivered and I’ll work from home or something</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>jessie:</b> ughh I’m a little jealous of you<br/>
<b>jessie:</b> SEE<br/>
<b>jessie:</b> didn’t I predict you’d get back together??</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>nic:</b> that’s so not the point</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>jessie:</b> me being right is always the point ❤️<br/>
<b>jessie:</b> why are you awake so late?</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>nic:</b> long shift<br/>
<b>nic:</b> … also sex reasons<br/>
<b>nic:</b> BUT MOSTLY BECAUSE OF WORK</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>jessie:</b> suuuuure</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>nic:</b> alright ANYWAYS<br/>
<b>nic:</b> are you free for brunch sometime?<br/>
<b>nic:</b> Conrad says he misses your sarcasm and the embarrassing childhood stories you tell him about me<br/>
<b>nic:</b> but DONT talk about the time about with the chocolate fountain or with mom’s hair straightener</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>jessie:</b> brunch sounds good! This weekend?<br/>
<b>jessie:</b> anyways I’m exhausted I’m going to sleep<br/>
<b>jessie:</b> congrats on allllll the makeup sex<br/>
<b>jessie:</b> remember to pee afterward so you don’t get a uti<br/>
<b>jessie:</b> use protection!!!</i>
</p><p>
  <i><b>nic:</b> you dork<br/>
<b>nic:</b> love you 💛</i>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>true romance is having someone bring you a cup of water after sex (well, I imagine it is? this is all conjecture, but it's very cute and heartfelt conjecture)</p><p>hopefully this was good?? I've reread it like 35 times. (I read my own fanfic far too often. I like my own writing! I know what I'm looking to read!)</p><p>this was very self-indulgent/sappy and I loved writing it. write the fics you want to see in the world! no one writes gratuitous "so I may or may not have thought about you in that way??" fic, so here you go. There isn't nearly enough reunion stuff in the Conic tag.</p><p>also, no spoilers, but 4x07 was a good episode. These writers are so great. Really hoping we get renewed for season 5!!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so apparently I deal with my 4x05-related feelings (no spoilers!) by working on this. I have a lot of feelings about nic and conrad during their first long breakup, the one after the miscarriage, and I feel like they never fell out of love even if they were pretending to be over each other. Established relationship stuff is great, but I have a soft spot for pining and ... this is the end result?</p><p>title inspired by blue lily, lily blue by maggie stiefvater (the queen of fantasy fiction and also the queen of writing pining scenes. I hope I picked up a thing or two.)</p><p>Anyways, comments and kudos are always appreciated! Nothing motivates writers more than a comment, I swear, even if it's like 5 words :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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